


The Miracle Worker

by vuokki



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e01 The Empty Hearse, Gen, Nervousness, Night, Post Reichenbach, Reunion, Sherlock Holmes Returns after Reichenbach, Sherlock is reunited with John, Sherlock's return, Short, The Empty Hearse, Wordcount: 100-500, not really Johnlock but it's implied, restaurant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 08:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vuokki/pseuds/vuokki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the teaser trailer for The Empty Hearse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Miracle Worker

_Falling is just like flying... except there's a more permanent destination_.

  
  
Sherlock tugs at his coat, cold from the concrete leaching through the soles of his shoes. The black cab merges into traffic in search of new passengers, beetle-like, gleaming under the mingled cold moonlight and warm glow of street lamps.

  
  
Today is the first day in three years he's hailed a cab. London has forgotten his face, and the cabbie had paid little mind to the tall man in his back seat, gulping back tears, collar turned up presumably against the cold.

  
  
For once in his life, the detective feels no influx of data into his mind as he advances through groups of passersby. The great brain vibrates with static.

 

Sherlock pauses beneath the sign of the restaurant Mycroft had specified in a text, where the prices probably have a zero or two more on the end than any amount the detective normally pays for food.

  
  
Crossing the threshold, heat and light glitter at him, dazzling, unbearable, and Sherlock chokes back the abruptly overwhelming urge to vomit. His entire body trembles as if carbonated water has been transfused into his veins. His chest cavity is in a state of complete meltdown, a Chernobyl of adrenaline. They'll have to send in robots later to photograph the damage.  
  
  
  
 _This must be the end of falling_.

  
  
Glossy fronds of a potted palm near the door curtsey in the draft like a shy debutante. A hostess calls out, stopping him as effectively as a shock collar. Not a single detail about her makes any impression on his mind.

  
  
"Do you have a reservation, sir?"

  
  
"No, I'm... just here for a friend."

  
  
"Name?"

  
  
"Watson."

  
  
A blur of hands reaches out to divest him of the Belstaff, and glass double doors to the main dining area swing open to admit him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Static fizzes out, the signal clears.

  
  
_John_.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is much shorter than what I'm accustomed to writing, but I couldn't resist putting Sherlock's return, briefly seen in the new teaser trailer, into my own words.
> 
> Also inspired a bit by the song A New Tomorrow by Neurotech.


End file.
